


Madam Malkin's Sentient Sewing Crew

by CharmsDealer



Series: The Diagon Alley Fluff AU [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter, Gen, Stiles POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-25 00:41:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharmsDealer/pseuds/CharmsDealer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Cause unfortunately, jerks need new robes too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Madam Malkin's Sentient Sewing Crew

“How much longer do we have to stand like this?” Stiles stage-whispered. One of the pins currently floating around his hemline pricked him in a chastising manner and he yelped. Scott was taking it like a champ. He fixed his eyes on a fleck of dirt in the window and stared at it resolutely while a rogue measuring tape tried to strangle him.

“Man, the last time I was here it was because I needed a set of dress robes to go to a wedding. It took an _hour_.”

Stiles stifled a groan. He would save his complaining for when he wasn’t in danger of being treated like a living pincushion.

They were standing on a raised wooden platform in the shop window with their arms straight out at their sides and their feet a shoulder’s width apart as Madam Malkin’s apparently sentient sewing implements took their sweet time in altering their set of first year robes. His dad and Scott’s mom were picking out trousers, shirts, and ties, but the robe, apparently, had to be _just right_ and they couldn’t pick one off the rack and throw it on the counter.

The weight of the fabric was distracting. It was going to be like wearing a dressing gown on top of all his other clothes, Stiles thought petulantly. If he had to stand for all three pairs he was going to scream. His arms began to droop and he had to shift his weight to alleviate some of the tingling sensation in his legs. Thankfully, these small acts of movement went unpunished.

The shop was quite crowded, as uniform shops often were in the final days leading up to school. Madam Malkin, a small woman dressed completely in mauve, marched up and down the shop taking measurements and directing her army of pins. She was clearly used to working under pressure; she didn’t bat an eyelid when a family of seven bustled in through the narrow doorway.

Although the majority of customers were looking for plain black robes as per their Hogwarts lists, it seemed that a few of the more decorative materials had snuck away from the shelves and were floating about the store hopefully, though nobody seemed to be paying them any attention.

Scott and Stiles were not the only ones on window display; on Stiles’ right, a haughty blond boy was being fitted for his own Hogwarts robes. Though they had entered the shop at the same time, he had unsuccessfully demanded to be seen to first. The scissors floating around the boy’s ankles seemed to be distracted and the measuring tape was going at an even slower pace than usual. It was mutiny, Stiles was sure.

“My great aunt could charm a needle better than Malkin,” the boy sniffed. “Why is this taking so long?” He pursed his lips and gave a long, drawn out sigh.

Despite the recalcitrance of the more practical tools, the boy was attracting a lot of attention from the Roaming Ribbons, as Stiles had dubbed them, who were hovering in a shy circle around him. One of the ribbons decided to try and cheer him up. It broke rank, dragging along a scrap of lace. They arranged themselves on the breast of his cream-coloured shirt in various attractive ways and the boy flushed and tried to bat them away.

“You know, maybe if you apologised, the sewing needle would pick up the pace,” Stiles suggested. “I think maybe you offended the little guy.”

The blond raised one of his eyebrows. “Oh yeah, and what do _you_ know about magic?” He gave Stiles a once over. “Magic is a wizard’s tool. None of this stuff,” he waved his arm, sending a cloud of sequins scattering, “has any _feelings.”_

The ribbons visibly wilted and the boy blinked, surprised.

Eventually, Madam Malkin made her way over to them. She clapped her hands and the ribbons slunk away. “Well, don’t you two look handsome?” she beamed, leading Scott and Stiles off of the platform.

Stiles swung his torso from side to side, testing the swish-factor. He caught sight of himself in one of the floor-length mirrors and stared at his reflection curiously. The robe looked out of place over his t-shirt and jeans but at least it hung well.

“Oh no,” he laughed when he saw the ridiculously pointy black hat his dad was holding. No _way_ was he going to wear that.

**Author's Note:**

> Headcanon is that Jackson is part Veela, so the frills and ribbons are thrilled and want to be his new best friends- but Jackson is too emotionally constipated to be nice to them. He's actually quite sad when they are made to leave him alone.


End file.
